


Eavesdropping Does Not Qualify as a Team-Building Exercise

by nicoleiacross



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Not Beta Read, Some Plot, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7456678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nicoleiacross/pseuds/nicoleiacross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collections of short, mostly plotless fluff-bunny short fics of Paladins being dumb together, because Voltron is a plague and I love it. It'll probably be a while before I manage full fic, so this'll just be a collection of one-shots, probably. (Will probably have spoilers; chapter one mentions Pidge's family/situation in passing, so??)</p><p>Ch. 1 - Shiro & Keith<br/>Ch. 2 - Coming soon!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eavesdropping Does Not Qualify as a Team-Building Exercise

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Summery: It takes a lot for Keith to work up the nerve to have a conversation with anyone; even Shiro, sometimes. What starts as progress in the right direction, ends in five steps in the wrong direction.

“Hey, Shiro… can I talk to you?”

When Shiro looks away from the armour case, he sees Keith standing a few feet away, perfectly still, looking over his own armour like he’s trying to make sure he hadn’t walked off with the gauntlets still on again. (A story for later and also the reason they never hold team training at night any more. A tired Keith was a dangerous Keith—mostly to himself, really, but still.) Shiro almost thinks he was hearing things; but, Keith’s fists are clenched just a little tighter than normal and his stance is just that tiny bit more ridged.

It’s a known fact that Keith rarely—if ever—approaches anyone for conversation. He’ll offer his opinion in group discussions (usually to argue, but it’s better than nothing… sometimes. Sometimes, it also ends in Shiro having to get between him and Lance before someone’s bayard ends up in the other Paladin’s face.) but… that’s about it. Otherwise, Keith keeps to himself, keeps to the training deck, keeps to Shiro’s shadow. So, Shiro considers this a (hopefully) positive step in the right direction of Keith opening up to the entire team. Or at least to him.

“Sure. What about?”

“It’s. Kind of personal, can we talk somewhere else? My bunk—or yours, either way just—somewhere we aren’t going to be interrupted or… anything else.”

That’s not too odd a request. In hindsight, he vaguely remembers Allura mentioning the mice had told her about Pidge’s secret. So, even if this weren’t something personal, he could definitely see Keith being worried about gossip spreading when he wasn’t ready to talk to the team yet. Before he can confirm that either location is fine—probably his own bunk, because Shiro has had to stop Lance from setting traps outside of Keith’s door more times than he cares to admit (or tell Keith about, because the last thing he needs is those two fighting over anything else)—Lance slings his arm over Keith’s shoulder and Shiro finally realises that the other Paladins are all in the room again. He knows they’d left earlier—Pidge always changes first and is out of the room before anyone else gets to go in; Hunk had left shortly after, being the new designated cook on the ship; and, Lance had been close at his heel, trying to figure out if there was a way to recreate nachos from the ingredients in the kitchen. But, they’re back and Keith goes from nervous quiet to ridged, locked-up, barely contained embarrassment-induced anger in record time. His hands are ridged, flexed like a cat that’s been startled and slowly curling back into his palms like he’s waiting for an opportunity to turn around and punch Lance… who completely ignores the hostility and leans his weight against Keith’s shoulder with a lopsided grin, “Team meeting then?”

“Lance—” Shiro doesn’t finish the warning. Keith yanks away and nearly collides with his armour case when he turns on Lance.

“Ok, since you were  _obviously_  eavesdropping, I just said it was personal and  _didn’t_  want to be interrupted! Doesn’t that  _kind of_  imply that I only want  _Shiro to hear it_? If he decides you need to know,  _fine_ , but I’m talking to him, first!”

“Is it Galra-related?”

“Even if it was, it’s none of your business!”

Shiro groans inwardly, resisting the urge to look away by sheer will alone (because taking his eyes off these two is a death sentence) and makes his way over to get between them before they launch at each other. Even without his bayard, Keith still has his dagger on his belt and well within reach. As ludicrous as Lance sounds a majority of the time, Shiro has learned that he’s pretty keen on things other people miss and if he thinks something’s important, he’s probably right. He’s not going to say that to the Blue Paladin’s face yet, but it’s a comfort. Right now, he needs to stop them, though.

He puts a firm hand on each of their shoulders—his left on Lance’s and his right giving Keith’s a firm squeeze to get his attention—and waits until they finally break eye contact to try talking sense into them, “Even if it were Galra-related, that doesn’t make it team-related, Lance. When Keith said personal, he could have meant personal for me.” Shiro seriously doubts that, but if it’s enough to distract the other Paladins, he’ll take it, “And if it  _is_  personal for Keith, that doesn’t automatically make it team-related.”

“Like letting me take things at my own pace,” Pidge puts in, helpfully, and Shiro nods in agreement, sending a thankful look over his shoulder.

“Exactly, thank you, Pidge. If this is something Keith doesn’t want to share for his own reasons, we’re going to respect that. Aren’t we, Lance?”

Lance’s attention is back on Keith, like he’s waiting for him to admit something. Like he _knows_  what Keith wants to bring up but doesn’t want to call him out on it just yet. Before he opens his mouth, though, Keith twists free again. Shiro only just remembers to loosen his grip when he feels Keith squirm and shoots him a mildly annoyed glance. It’s only been in passing, but Shiro’s told him enough times that he isn’t always aware of how tight his grip is with his right hand; Keith knows better than to tug away from the right hand and knows well enough that he could have hurt himself doing so. Before he can remind him, Keith’s already storming out of the room, calling back over his shoulder.

“Just forget it! It wasn’t anything important.”

“Keith!”

“It’s  _nothing_!”

Hunk and Pidge don’t try to stop him; Pidge actually jumps back out of the way and even Hunk steps aside. Shiro lets out a slow breath and gives Lance a critical look, “ _Necessary_?”

“It was Galra-related.”

The matter-of-fact tone is normally reassuring; but, right now, Shiro’s just annoyed. Keith really is like a cat—a very disgruntled and temperamental cat, that does things at his own pace and needs to be given ample room to ensure he doesn’t startle and attack someone by mistake. Shiro lets out a slow breath.

“Even if it were—”

“—It  _was_ —”

“—you couldn’t have let me handle it? It’s going to take weeks for him to work up the nerve to try that again.”

Lance just gives him a curious look; not a glare, not blank… it’s an unamused and sort of bored look, like what he’s saying should be obvious and he sounds just the smallest bit annoyed when he finally elaborates, “No offense, but you’re kind of bias when Keith’s involved. If it’s Galra-related, it’s team-related.  _You_  don’t want to tell us about your time with Galra, fine. That’s probably for the best—Hunk’s got a weak stomach and Pidge probably doesn’t need to hear about the things you went through.”

There’s a small murmur of agreement from the other two and Shiro almost wants to ask whose side they’re on (which is ridiculous to begin with, because they’re all supposed to be on the same side) and Lance finally just shrugs and tries to look around Shiro, like he’s trying to see if Keith really did leave, “Whatever he knows about the Galra is team-related.”

“You don’t even know it was Galra-related.”

“It was.”

Shiro wants to argue. But, there’s that small, nagging feeling in the back of his mind and the prickle of a chill crawling up his spine. Lance doesn’t know for certain—there’s no way he could, because Shiro can’t imagine that Keith would just open up to him out of nowhere—but… there’s the certainty in his eyes and tone that tells Shiro he’s right. He doesn’t know how and he doesn’t know what, but he’s right.

“Well… whatever it was. He’s not going to tell us  _now_.”

“He will.” Lance says, matter-of-factly, and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets as he heads back towards the other two, “I’d bet on it. Anyways, Hunk, back to the kitchen! I want those nachos perfect before breakfast!”

“You can’t have nachos for breakfast!” Hunk protests, “And we’re nowhere near having anything that resembles nachos!”

“Better get to work then! Pidge, you’re coming, too!” He hooks an arm around the Green Paladin’s neck, despite the sputtered protests, and hauls them both towards the kitchen, leaving Shiro in the middle of the armoury, feeling like he missed something vital. It’s not a pleasant feeling—it’s one that he’s still trying to shake, regularly, as his memory tries to unjumble itself and he tries to remember things from before he was captured. It’s like trying to adjust a communication’s channel—getting nothing but static and a few words, if he’s lucky. Sometimes an image, blurry and unrecognisable; or a scent that makes him feel a little too nostalgic, but he can’t place why or where it’s coming from.

With an annoyed, strained, sigh, Shiro finally leaves, looking between the corridors and trying to decide who he goes after—try to go stop Lance from blowing up the kitchen or take his chances and hope Keith’s calmed down at least a little… or try to sleep it off and deal with it in the morning.

… He really should check on Keith, first, though. Just to make sure he’s ok, Shiro tells himself. It’s not a lie, but it still leaves an unpleasant taste in the back of his mouth, as Lance’s words play on repeat in the back of his mind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I SWEAR THERE WAS GOING TO BE MORE AND IT WAS GOING TO BE SHEITH, BUT. My brain imploded. I'm sad.


End file.
